


Words of Victory

by moshimichi



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moshimichi/pseuds/moshimichi
Summary: He'd won. He'd finally won. But did he really know at what cost?





	Words of Victory

**Author's Note:**

> I think my train of thought derailed somewhere in there haha ^^;

He’d done it. He’s finally won.

Laughter bubbled from his lips, almost tentative at first. Almost like he couldn’t believe it. Then, it grew louder and louder in a quick crescendo. He won. He won! Vicious,  _victorious_  joy joined the clamor of rage, rage, death, rage in his mind.

The sound was giddy and beautiful in his joy. Beautiful in his dark glee. And it continued to resound in the air as he stood amongst the consequences of his actions.

Fire licked at the smoke-filled atmosphere. Buildings crumbled as their weakening structures gave way. The very earth tore apart as the dimensions continued their warped movements.

And the foolish, foolish duelists— _entertainers_ —who had dared to go against him laid scattered about like the corpses they would soon become.

A blissful sigh followed the final trickle of laughter and he glanced down at  _her_. The last one to engage him in both this event and the one before. She had stood in his way before, had  _defeated_ him before. But not this time. No, this time,  _he_  had won.

She would stand in his way no more.

Perhaps his next action was due to vague curiosity or maybe due to his wish to gloat. Regardless, he slowly crouched down next to his foe and, for what might have been the first time, actually looked at her.

Oh, yes, he had seen her before. He had  _admired_  her before. A professional duelist like he had once been, she had been praised for her skills before her father’s work overshadowed her reputation. Her face, along with those admittedly cute goggles, had been plastered in magazines and on digital screens everywhere.

But Zarc had never really  _looked_  at her. She had only been a face among many other duelists. Only another background character in his story. And when she finally became something— _someone_ —personal to him, it was as an enemy. In that one, rage-blurred,  _fleeting_  moment, there had been no time to actually look at his unforgiveable adversary.

So, no, he had never seen her before at all. But she was…familiar. Cold eyes swept over the girl’s features and took them in. Long lashes rested against her cheeks. A strong jaw line, something she had inherited from her father. Long, smooth hair ruffled from their battle. And if he remembered correctly, eyes that burned with determination and self-sacrifice.

She was beautiful. She had been especially so in her ferocity during their confrontation. Yet, there was something more than just her looks. His heart twinged in pain, victory slowly crowded to the side by a tightness he couldn’t name.

It hurt. The pain burned and stabbed, searing through a heart that shouldn’t be there anymore. Unnamed emotions clawed and writhed and battered against a confused will to hate. She was  _important_.

She had to be— No— He had to take her back. He had to take her back to—

Almost with a mind of its own, his hand—was it his hand?—reached forward. Gray and cracked, his palm cupped the girl’s cheek and his thumb stroked her soft skin, all the while mindful of those long claws.

Why? Why was he being careful with her?

Movements slow but smooth, she was lifted into his arms, cradled in his embrace as he held her close to his heart.

Why was he treating her like she was precious?

The world blurred and swirled, though her visage still somehow managed to stay clear in his eyes. Something wet—pain, sadness, regret,  _how could you_ —trailed over broken skin and fell to kiss hers.

“I won,” he whispered softly, fingers gentle as he brushed aside loose strands from her face. The words were unbidden and the reason was unknown. Why was it so important that he told her he had won? That she knew? What could she possibly have to know? She was… They no longer had to…

It was over.

Who was she again?

“I won.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr [here.](http://moshimichi.tumblr.com/post/156027008341/words-of-victory)


End file.
